On Writing and Ritual and Trying Anything to Get the Writing Going

My Writing Altar.

I wasn’t raised to be spiritual, nor have I become so. I started listening to Big Magic on audiobook years ago and was turned off by it. I don’t believe in a mystical force that drives my writing. 

I believe my writing comes from me, from my brain, and what is triggered by my thoughts and surroundings. I believe this, even if I don’t understand it. But I often have trouble accessing that part of my brain that loves to communicate with the world through typed text. And so, I thought a writing ritual to prime my brain might be useful. Routine actions have been shown in studies to be successful at creating a specific mindset for productivity. Or at least I’ve read that somewhere along the lines. So I thought perhaps borrowing something from the spiritual world (but not the spirit world), dipping my toes, if you will, might be helpful. I came up with a writing altar as part of my writing practice ritual. I am wholly and knowingly appropriating from religion here. 

At first, I thought about buying something to be used as the basis for my altar. I looked on Etsy (of course) and found these plates that could be customized with text. Then I noticed they were made of air-dry clay, which I didn’t know existed. So I thought, “I can make one of these and customize it completely.” I knew it wouldn’t be as nice, but it didn’t matter; it was for me. Sure, another appropriation. So I ordered supplies and over the course of several days, made the plate. I made a little token as well that I can flip to begin my ritual. On one side it says “am” and the other “am not” and it goes between “I” and “writing.” It’s a message to myself and potentially others that I am writing (which includes revision). Then, what to put on the altar? 

An action to signal to myself (again along with the token flip) that I am writing: a candle to light. I chose a battery-operated one I turn on because my apartment is full of cats and children, so best to be safe. I put it in a Kintsugi cup I ordered from Japan a couple years ago, representing the beauty in repair of broken things (the cup is really from Japan, but I’m not sure it’s authentic Kintsugi, to be honest, as the gold is fading). 

Then I added some objects, and these will come and go. The first is a bookmark in the shape of a gingko leaf, representing the need to read, to be in community with other writers, to take in as much as I produce. The second is a piece of a leaf from a small arbutus branch I found on the ground and brought back from Gabriola Island. As one of my novels-in-progress takes place on Gabriola Island, this reminds me to keep at my existing projects and honour my past work. Then a piece of a geode I smashed myself (so fun!) to remind me of my power and responsibility as a writer. Then a small piece of driftwood from a Tofino beach to remind me of the power of waves in my life, an enduring symbol, and how my writing ebbs and flows. Next a wild bird eggshell (likely a starling) I found in my garden. It reminds me of constant (spring) renewal and the end of wintering, which often marks the beginning of my writing. It also connects me to home and keeps me grounded. Finally, a shell a dear writer friend collected and brought me to remind me of the necessity for me to have support and supporters within (and outside) the writing community. It reminds me I am loved and believed in as a writer. The ocean shell also reminds me that I write for people like my friend, to build understanding and compassion among humanity. 

As for the ritual itself, it is fluid, but I am working on components that include ensuring I have water and probably Jelly Belly beans at hand, flipping the marker, turning on the candle, playing a specific song (currently “King” by Florence + the Machine although “Wake Up” by Arcade Fire is a longstanding go-to motivating song for my writing), stretching my arms and back, and saying a little mantra to myself to remind my mind that I am a writer and I am writing. These steps aren’t always necessary or possible, especially given I usually have my 11-week-old strapped to me or otherwise sleeping on me while I’m writing. Let’s see if this process helps me touch into my creative side and get the words flowing.